


Floater

by greerwatson



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/pseuds/greerwatson
Summary: Screed recalls how he became a carouche.
Kudos: 1





	Floater

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted to FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU on 5 May 2020.

Charnce ’as a lot to do wiv life—an’ unlife, fer tha’ matter. Wha’ if. I mean, tha’ss a question, en’t it? There I were. Off a ship, pay in me ’and, lookin’ for ale to wet me whistle an’ some comp’ny fer a bi’ o’ in-out-in-out … wha’ if I’d gone up ’stead of down, ’long thataway ’stead o’ this? Or picked up the yaller-hair cheena wi’ the scar on ’er cheek, ’stead o’ goin’ wi’ the skanky dark one wi’ the big groodies? Worst I was reck’nin’ was she’d crast me gelt.

Or s’pose, when me corpus washed up on the shore, I woke to find some mudlarkin’ type a-searchin’ of me clobber fer coins—no’ tha’ I ’ad any left. Or stealin’ me shoes—if I wore ’em, which I didn’t. Well, then I’d be a proper vampire, wouldn’t I? No different than the loikes of LaCroyzie ’imself or tha’ scary boyo of ’is, Detecative Knight.

As it was, I woke on me lone in the dark—an’ a bi’ o’ luck tha’ was! ’Magine if I’d a come to in daylight? Been the end of me, tha’ would. Been the dustin’ of me to a pile o’ ash.

Starvin’ I were. A gnawin’ in me innards, the loike o’ which I never felt before in all me mortal life, not even in the worst of all the bad winters when I was jest a kiddie-pop. Cold to me guttiwuts, loike as if someun stick me wiv an icicle. Then I ’eard a skitter and felt a warmph passin’ by—an’ made a grab.

An’ tha’ were it fer me. I sank in me zoobies an’ drank, ’ardly even noticin’ wha’ I were about, ’cept that i’ chased the cold and filled me guts. And then I felt the fur, and the scaly tail a-danglin’ ’long of me arm. I opened up me oyes an’ saw— _saw_! —in the pitch dark, which no ’uman ever could on a moonless night, jes’ wha’ I were a-suckin’ on.

Troof to tell, i’ makes no ma’er to me nowadays. Yer ackcherly come to loike the taste. In fack, arter a while, yer turn a real conn-a-sewer.


End file.
